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So Parsley and the Prince, now freed from danger, went their way leisurely and quietly to the Prince's kingdom, where, with his father's free consent, they were married. Thus, after all these storms of fate, they experienced the truth that "One hour in port, the sailor, freed from fears, Forgets the tempests of a hundred years."
From the age of eighteen, when her parents had forced her to throw over her sailor sweetheart and marry a man with "good prospects," she had been going steadily down. She did not love her husband, and soon sought comfort from the little public-house only a few steps from her own door.
They had a belief, the old sailor stronger than the rest, that there were Portuguese forts along the coast, chiefly to the southward, and that by keeping along shore they might reach one of these.
The old phrase, "Drunk as a sailor," meant, in most men's minds, drunk as a man-o'-war's man.
The story goes that the King wanted a good sailor to sail across the sea. Then an old knight says to him that the best sailor that ever sailed the sea is Sir Patrick Spens. So the King writes a letter bidding Sir Patrick make ready. At first he is pleased to get a letter from the King, but when he has read what is in it his face grows sad and angry too.
The influence of the great English sailor is the more remarkable when we remember that there had been early French navigators to the South Seas before Laperouse. There was the elder Bougainville, the discoverer of the Navigator Islands; there was Marion-Dufresne, who was killed and eaten by Maoris in 1772; there was Surville to mention only three. Laperouse knew of them, and mentioned them.
So they did seize him, and he was actually tried, condemned and imprisoned for some months, all of which however did not bring back the tulip root. It is a question after all in my mind, whether that sailor was really as green as he pretended, and whether he did not know very well what he was taking.
Presently a group of men, whose dress belonged to the upper class, moved down through the street to the beach. "Aye! there is Mr. Trevelyan," said the sailor, "and the gentleman beside him is Captain Drake, himself." The group moved on to where the fishermen were standing. "Is there no hope," they asked, "of helping the ship?" The seamen shook their heads.
"Bows and arrows were sufficient for centuries to stain the earth with blood. Powder is but a thing of yesterday, and war is as old as the human race unhappily." "Faith, that's true, Mr. Spilett," replied the sailor, "and I always speak too quickly. You must excuse me!" Meanwhile, Herbert constant to his favorite science, Natural History, reverted to the kangaroos, saying,
"Very, Mr. Oliver," answered the girl, with a laugh; "but I don't mind it a bit, as the rain is not cold. I am too old a 'sailor man' to mind a wetting. Are you all quite well? I can't see your face, Mr. Studdert, nor yours, Mr. Morrison, it is so dark. Oh, Mr. Studdert, I wish I had one of your cigarettes to smoke." "I wish I had one to give you, miss," answered the pale-faced young engineer.
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